


Two Very Different Things

by yuffiehighwind



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: 1990s, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuffiehighwind/pseuds/yuffiehighwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennis never let Sweet Dee's problems worry him, until she got into trouble on spring break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Very Different Things

**Author's Note:**

> Based on dialogue in S9 Ep2 "Gun Fever Too: Still Hot." The clerk at the gun shop discovers Dee was hospitalized back in college...for setting her roommate on fire. But what if Dennis had, at first, assumed something else happened? Warning: Mentions of suicide and self-harm. Dennis/Dee and Mac/Dennis if you squint.

March 1997

On a Sunday

A young woman with long, straggly blonde hair sat hunched over on her bed scribbling in a small spiral notebook. Half her face obscured by the uncombed mess, she appeared to be twenty, though her bedroom still resembled a 15 year old girl's. Bright hues filled the small space, from pastel pillows to a floral print bedspread. Colorful feather boas hung from the dark oak headboard. Little wooden figurines of horses, elephants, and mythical creatures perched on square shelves. My Little Ponies pranced in the bookcase and a collection of ugly '80's era hats engulfed a metal stand. A teddy bear as big as a child lay lopsided on the floor, while a grinning lion remained wedged between the nightstand and the mattress. Two lamps flanked the bed, but they were switched off. Whatever dim light filtered in through the tree outside her modest balcony served as the only illumination.

But the room did not appear lived in. A thick layer of dust coated every surface and cobwebs had formed in the corners. A large, open suitcase overflowing with clothes and make-up took up most of the floor. The closet and drawers remained unopened.

Leaning in the doorway and watching her was a handsome, dark-haired twenty-year-old. Though he was typically self-assured and oozing charm, his brow furrowed in worry. He was more worried than he had been in years and was struggling not to show it.

"Is it true?"

The woman stopped writing but didn't look up. 

"Is what true?" she asked. 

The man, Dennis, sat on the edge of the bed, making the mattress squeak. The woman withdrew her feet. 

"That you were locked up?" He said it softly, but she still winced. "For what? Hurting yourself?" 

Not meeting his eyes, the woman shook her head. She pushed some hair behind one ear, staring blankly at her notebook. On her wrist was a plastic hospital ID bracelet. 

"Jesus Christ, Dee!" he said. Mouth gaping, he reached for her hand to get a better look. Gripping her arm, he pulled her wrist closer.

"Let go!" she said, pulling away. Since when couldn't he touch his own sister? 

The woman's name was Deandra. "Sweet Dee," to him, though Dennis had only given her that nickname because her moods were so sour. She glared at her twin brother, nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Tell me what happened," Dennis demanded, though he knew she wouldn't. They never shared anything personal anymore.

They didn't act like twins at all, who were supposed to have some kind of profound bond, or telepathy or some shit. Dennis first dismissed the idea when they were seven, during a frustrating game of "Red Light, Green Light." He confirmed its nonexistence when they were ten, after the worst round of Hide N Seek in history. (Or the best, if Dennis didn't despise losing. Dee holed up under their porch for so long their parents nearly called the cops, then reasoned she was at a friend's house. Which wouldn't seem so bad if Dee had any friends.) Scientific inquiry warranted a third test, but Dennis knew nearly everything about his sister already, which had nothing to do with the supernatural.

He couldn't read her now.

It was unsurprising Dee didn't trust him. Bitterness had crept between them after a lifetime of unbalanced treatment from callous parents. Dennis wished she did, because his calm exterior hid frantic thoughts of her doing the unthinkable.

Although Dee's welfare concerned him now, Dennis had grown numb over the years. He treated others carelessly, manipulating people to his own ends. It was something he learned watching their parents. His lack of empathy sometimes unsettled him, but only sometimes, and only when someone called him out on it. Dennis didn't understand what was happening to him, he just reasoned it this way: Life was better when he put his own needs first. His mother had already sold Dennis the lie he was some kind of god and it stayed with him. This same woman treated his sister so loathsomely it was no wonder Dee's self-esteem plummeted. Dennis had watched Dee's abuse escalate and done nothing to stop it. When Dennis turned fifteen, he wondered why he should defend his sister anymore. She was such a downer.

Sometimes Dennis still felt pangs of kinship, like now. Sweet Dee was blood, after all. She had been a presence in his life before they were even born. They were stuck with each other, and Dennis had a feeling they always would be. He hated her half the time, but Dee was his constant. They'd been inseparable as children, out of self-defense if not love. Their father had never truly cared for them. He would toy with their emotions when he wasn't neglecting them. His sickest jokes were around Christmas, when he would only buy presents for himself. Even their mother could treat them both coldly, before she began to shower Dennis with praise. When they were children it sometimes felt like only him and Dee against the world. It was Dee's struggle with scoliosis that first made Dennis think she was weak.

He was wrong, because Dee may have been defective, but she was anything but weak. She endured every medieval treatment and refused to let it break her. She would cry herself to sleep every night, but was still ready with fresh sarcastic barbs every morning. After graduation Dee cast off her back brace and Dennis had to admit that even with a homely face, Dee's tall, slender frame was sexy. (In just the right, tight tanks, short skirts, and leather boots up to her knees, not that Dennis had given her body much thought. Much.) Sweet Dee had survived high school, and had fought so hard to be like everybody else that Dennis couldn't imagine her ever giving up.

With this in mind, Dennis turned her arm over so he could see her wrist, looking for scars, then checked the other, but he found none. Maybe it had been pills, he thought. That would be the way Dee would go. She was too cowardly for anything else.

Dennis let go of her arm. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

Dee shook her head, clutching the notebook to her chest so he couldn't read it.

"What are you writing?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

Dee finally met his gaze and said in exasperation, "My shrink said to 'write out my feelings.' I haven't done that in years. What's worse is he wants to read it."

"You think it's bullshit?"

"Of course it is," she said, shutting the cover and flinging the notebook on the floor. It hit the teddy bear in the head. "I already told him everything. Everybody knows. My doctors, the cops, the _dean_..."

"What? Why would the dean...?"

Dee sighed. "Just forget it."

"You're right. I don't need to know. I don't even care, really," Dennis lied. "It's your life."

"Why are you here, anyway?"

"Spring Break, remember? I'm here for a couple days to see Mac. Then I'm going down to Cancun."

"That is so typical. You gonna try and get on MTV? Try out for the Real World? Toss a volleyball around with Daisy Fuentes?"

"Fuck you. I don't give a shit about Daisy Fuentes. I'm going to get wasted and bang chicks."

"Is Mac coming with you?"

Dennis hesitated, looking away.

"No."

"I bet he's not too happy about that. His best friend taking off without him."

"He's..."

"Uh-huh?"

"Mac's got Charlie. He won't mind."

"You don't know Mac as well as you think, do you?"

Dennis had forgotten how many conversations ended with Dee actually saying something insightful. He was so used to her shrill complaints and self-obsessed chatter that he forgot Dee was a Reynolds. Reynolds were clever and shrewd, even the pathetic ones. 

"He won't mind," Dennis repeated, more for himself than for Dee. "I'm leaving on Tuesday. My ticket is already booked."

"Mac may have Charlie, but you know as well as I do that's not the same to him. Plus this is like throwing your wealth in his face."

"Shut up, Dee," Dennis said, standing up. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't believe me? Ask him yourself."

He did believe her, but Dennis would never call attention to it, and Mac would never reveal his jealousy. Dennis understood him well enough - far better than Dee ever would - to know Mac deeply buried anything conflicting with his worldview. In this case, it was the assertion that Dennis would never leave him.

Dennis turned to go, saying, "Whatever, Dee." He shot her one last look from the doorway, and Dee looked small, huddled among her pillows, picking absently at her ID bracelet. Why hadn't she cut it off yet?

"Come downstairs and have something to eat," Dennis said. "You look like a goddamn scarecrow."

"Mom's downstairs."

Ah. Dee could hide away in her childhood bedroom, but stick her in a kitchen with Mom and reality would come crashing down on her all over again. And who knows what she'd do then?

Dennis pushed the thought down and shrugged, aiming for disinterested nonchalance.

"Face her, then. Or not. Do what you want."

"I'm gonna find a new place real soon."

"Uh-huh. Look, Dee...I gotta go," Dennis said, not really registering her last statement. "Mac's waiting."

Dee hugged her knees to her chest, something she would do often as a child but was physically incapable of doing as a teenager. Dee had apparently re-adopted it as an adult. She looked so pathetic that Dennis felt pulled to her side. He couldn't help it. Old habits died hard. Dennis sat down next to her on the narrow twin bed. Dee scooted over so he could fit. He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

This was gross. Saccharine. Nice. Dennis was a lot of things, but "nice" wasn't one of them. He was only kind when it suited him.

He hugged her closer anyway.

"I need a new roommate," Dee said, ruining the tender moment, and Dennis rolled his eyes.

"No, Dee. Not gonna happen."

"I can't stay in the dorms," she said. "I...just can't. So I need to get a place soon, in time for next semester."

"Just get Dad to pay for a studio! Me and Mac are getting a place off campus. Two bedrooms, one bath, no Sweet Dee."

"You're a terrible brother," Dee said, but didn't leave his side.

It was true. Dennis _was_ a terrible brother, but he could still be her rock for a few minutes, and she would still appreciate it.

"Come downstairs and eat. If Mom's there, just tell her to fuck off like you usually do."

"She said I'm a failure."

"You're flunking out of school. Of course she thinks you're a failure."

"That I'll never be good at anything I do."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" Dennis made a noise of disgust. "This self-loathing shit puts everybody off. Be more confident, like your big brother."

"More _arrogant_ ," Dee said. "And we're the same age, shithead."

"I'm five minutes older."

Dee blew a raspberry at him. "Five minutes closer to death, then. That doesn't make you smarter."

"I'm wiser."

"Oh, cut the shit. You think you're a golden god, but you're just a stuck-up preppy so outcast by his peers his three best friends are _poor_."

Goddamn Sweet Dee. She knew how to make her blows count.

"Schmitty isn't poor. He's...middle class."

"Same difference." 

"You never made friends with the preps either. You hung around the theater geeks doing their bitch work. In fact, you still do."

"The crew is a vital part of the theater. It's how you start networking."

"Right."

"Our improv troupe gets critical acclaim!"

"In the school newspaper. In a column written by another theater geek. Sounds like media bias to me."

"You're just jealous. Delta Omega Lambda only gets bad press."

"That rape case was completely blown out of proportion!" 

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"And I was not involved!"

Dee's sardonic sneer became a puzzled frown. "I never said you were."

Dennis shut his eyes, any concern for Dee's welfare swiftly becoming buried in argument. Exasperated, he said, "You can't live with me. With us." 

"Why not?"

"That's just weird, a grown man living with his twin sister."

"But I'm homeless!"

"That's not my problem."

Dee pulled away from Dennis, simultaneously shoving him off the bed.

"That's not to say I'm not..." Dennis struggled to say the words. " _Concerned_ about you."

"Yeah, right," Dee scoffed.

"No, it's true. So whatever you did or tried to do..." And now Dennis' tone became less sympathetic and more demanding. "Don't do it again."

Dee chuckled. "I can't guarantee anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

How depressed _was_ she?

"Nothing," Dee said, getting up. "Isn't Mac waiting? If you're not going to help me, you should go." She held the bedroom door open, gesturing for him to leave.

Dennis stood and crossed his arms. "Wait a second, something doesn't add up."

"What?"

"You said the dean knows you were hospitalized, as well as the police, and your doctor's making you write a journal. One I bet he's gotta sign off on. You're evicted from the dorms, probably suspended for the semester. You won't tell me what happened, and you can't 'guarantee' it won't happen again?"

"So? It's none of your goddamn business!"

"You asked me to be your roommate. I think I deserve to know what I'd be in for if I said yes."

"It's not...I won't..." Dee laughed nervously. "I'm gonna go get something to drink." 

Dennis blocked her path out the door. "Look at me, sis." 

Dee reluctantly met his gaze.

"What did you do?" 

His sister scowled. "She..." Dee trailed off. 

It was like pulling teeth with this girl. 

"Who's 'she?'" One possibility popped into Dennis' mind, and it made too much sense to be untrue. "Not...Oh, no, you _didn't_." 

"She had it coming, Dennis!" 

"Dee, you fucking _bitch_ , you made me think you tried to kill yourself!" 

Dennis grasped her arms and shook her. It wasn't the unspecified harm to an innocent girl that angered him. He couldn't give less of a shit about her. It was Dee's deception that hurt, even if it had only been for a few minutes. 

"Kill myself?" she said shrilly. "Are you crazy? No way!" 

Dennis felt like slapping her, but he'd never raised a hand to Dee in his life. He punched the door instead, injuring his hand. 

"I'm not the one who's crazy." He winced, cradling his fingers. " _Please_ tell me your roommate isn't dead."

"What? No! She's just a bit... _scorched_ , is all. And hey, I got good news! I wasn't convicted of assault! Mom's lawyer was able to argue temporary insanity."

"Yeah, I'll bet he was."

"She was being annoying, okay? You've met her. Remember? She's a goddamn copycat. She kept borrowing my clothes, and my make-up, and..." 

"Not this again? You were copying _her_ , Dee. _You_."

"Okay, let's not split hairs."

"No. Let's not. And there is a _big_ difference between setting someone else on fire and what I thought... _Jesus_ , Dee! You've really got to control that temper!" 

"You're one to talk," she said.

"I don't light people on fire. I...subtly manipulate them into destroying themselves."

Dee's eyes widened. He had meant to inject some sarcasm, to make it sound like a joke, but his voice had been too soft and his smile too absent. This whole conversation had gotten away from him.

"You what?"

Hands resting on her shoulders, his touch more gentle now, Dennis said calmly, "That part doesn't matter. But the part where I leave for Mexico does, so...just..."

Dee averted her eyes and tucked her hair behind her ears. It had fallen in her face again.

"Just...hit up Dad for cash. He and Mom will be glad to see you leave this house before you ruin anything else."

Dee looked even sadder than when he'd found her. Dennis realized he had just barged into a room Dee had intended to be a space safe from judgment.

But getting arrested for assault did make her a failure, and it reflected poorly on the family. Somebody had to think about their reputation. Dad no longer gave a shit and neither did their mother most days.  

Dennis withdrew his hands and exited into the hall. "I'm outta here," Dennis called from the hallway. "Dennis," Dee said, following him to the landing. He looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs. His scruffy, lanky mess of a sister he was ashamed had shared a womb. His sympathy for her had evaporated.

"I just wanted to tell you," she began, probably trying to get the last word, "to let Mac down easy."

"Why? I'll be back in a week." It surprised him Dee still cared and assumed that Dennis didn't.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she said. Dennis rolled his eyes, gave her a half-assed backwards wave and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom," Dennis said, "I'm going over Mac's house. I should be back tonight."

"Good for you," she said from the dinner table, not looking up from her magazine. "Give my regards to that filthy hooligan." 

"Look, Mac's not just a...Never mind. I don't know why I tell you anything."

Dennis was almost to the door when Frank entered. This rare appearance by his father had stopped meaning anything to Dennis years ago. 

"Hey, Dad," he grumbled. Frank gave him an insincere smile.

"Dennis, is your shrew of a mother here?"

"In the kitchen. Look, I'm going out to see Mac, but I'll be..."

"Yeah, have fun. Barbara?" he called.

"What?" Dennis heard her reply.

"I gotta talk to you about our latest credit bill. What in God's name is a charge from Tiffany's doing on here?"

Their fights over money could last for hours, even with all their wealth. Dad could spend thousands of dollars on whores and drugs while pinching Mom's pennies at home. But Dennis knew they'd still throw that same money at Dee's problems, just to keep her out of trouble. A studio or single-bedroom apartment would be the quickest solution. Sweet Dee didn't need a better roommate, she needed to be alone. It would do her some good.

Or not. Who cared?

Why did he?

**Author's Note:**

> *I base my description of Dee's bedroom on scenes from "Dennis and Dee's Mom is Dead."  
> *We first discover that Dee wore a scoliosis back brace in high school in "Underage Drinking: A National Concern," and find out more in episodes like "The Aluminum Monster vs. Fatty Magoo." In canon, she wore it until she was 20. In this fanfic, she wore it until she was 18.  
> *Delta Omega Lambda was Dennis' fictional fraternity at the University of Pennsylvania. ("The Gang Reignites the Rivalry")  
> *We know the twins went to the University of Pennsylvania from "Charlie Got Molested" and "The Gang Reignites the Rivalry." In "Charlie Got Molested," Dennis comments that Dee flunked out.  
> *Daisy Fuentes is a television host and model who, in the mid-1990's, was a VJ for MTV. Among many other projects, she could be found hosting MTV's Spring Break.  
> *The Real World was a popular reality show in the mid-1990's, before reality shows were even a genre.  
> *Schmitty is a former member of the Gang, first seen in "The Gang Gets a New Member."


End file.
